


Little Stranger

by Jay_Wells



Series: The Odd Life of Alexander Hamilton [10]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternative Universe - Modern Setting, Babies, Childbirth, F/M, Marriage, home birth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 11:09:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6655567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_Wells/pseuds/Jay_Wells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I heartily felicitate you on the birth of your daughter. I can well conceive your happiness upon that occasion, by that which I feel in a similar one.<br/>Indeed the sensations of a tender father of the child, of a beloved mother can only be conceived by those who have experienced them.</p><p>You cannot imagine how entirely domestic I am growing. I lose all taste for the pursuits of ambition, I sigh for nothing but the company of my wife and my baby."<br/>[Alexander Hamilton, March 1782 Letter to Richard Meade]</p><p>Eliza has decided to have a home birth and Alexander is worried about his qualifications for fatherhood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Stranger

The women had chased Alexander out of the room, so now he was pacing the hallway.

_“It’s my kid, Ange!”_

_“Shoo, Ham.”_

So Alexander had no idea what was going on. And because he had no idea of what was happening, he was busy being terrified. His father hadn’t been truly present in his life, and the saying went the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Would he end up like his father, he wondered.

He remembered the empty spot at the dinner table, no letters in the mail, a sleepy exchange: _I’ll be back before you know I’m gone._

Alexander couldn’t be that man, but perhaps he was doomed to walk the same path. He would have no idea, either, no basis for comparison.

He could really hurt a child, if he wanted.

Peggy was calmly lounging on the couch, watching from the living room. “Why did you decide to have a home birth, anyway?”

“Betsy wanted it.” he said. “I don’t like it, personally. Too much could go wrong.”

“Women having been giving birth at home for centuries.” she assured.

“What’s the mortality rate?” He sighed, and pressed his head against the wall. Then he got an idea. He ran and grabbed Eliza’s book from her nightstand and a glass of water and entered the birthing room.

Eliza was lying there sweating and panting with Angelica and the nurse buzzing around the room. Alex pushed past them and sat down on the edge of the bed and handed Eliza the glass of water. “What can I do? I brought you water, and book and me.”

“Pull up a chair then, and be patient.” Angelica said, shaking her head in frustration. “It’s clear you won’t leave.”

“Thanks, Ange, but I’m asking Eliza.” He turn back to his wife, who managed to roll her eyes.

She reached out and clutched his hand. He sat down.

 

He half fell asleep now that he was next to Eliza and not pacing in the hall. He woke up when she went into labour though, and almost had an episode when he saw Eliza curling up from the pain. She was clutching his hand painfully tight, and gasping for air.

The baby was born, the cord cut and the afterbirth delivered, and then he was swept off to be cleaned. Alexander stayed beside Eliza, and she glanced up at him through half-lidded eyes before sitting up to kiss his cheek. “I didn’t hurt your hand, did I?”

Alexander pressed a kiss to her forehead. “No. How are _you_ feeling?”

“Tired.” She sunk into her pillows. “I am not doing this again.”

“At-home birth or babies?”

“Both.” Eliza laughed weakly.

At that moment, Angelica returned with the baby, now clean and swaddled, and handed him to Eliza. “Here he is. What’s the name?”

Eliza looked quizzically at Alexander, who was too enraptured in staring at the baby to respond, so she sighed affectionately and said, “Philip Hamilton.”

Alexander nodded.

After Angelica smiled at the new family and left, Eliza asked, “Do you want to hold him?”

“Yes.” He slid an arm under the baby’s body, the other supporting his head. His son in his arms, Alexander remembered nights when his mother came into his room to tuck him in, or days when she put up with taunts to take him to the library in town, or the pains she took to shield his James and him from the worst of the taunts. He realised that as much as he loved and adore Eliza and John, nothing could compare to mixture of pride, love, joy and hope he felt in that moment. He stroked Philip’s cheek with his thumb. “Hey there, little stranger.”


End file.
